An Outersenshi Picnic or The Purple Bow
by whitesakura
Summary: The outersenshi's peaceful picnic is suddenly broken. Hotaru must realize that she is Sailor Saturn in order to save her comrades. But what happens when she regains her memories? How do the other outersenshi, who have raised her since she was reborn as a


Disclaimer: I _still_ do not own Sailormoon or its characters – quite frankly I think Naoko Takeuchi handles them quite well on her own. I just happen to like borrowing them. ^^;; 

Warning: Tiny bit of flirting between Haruka and Michiru. If you've decided to keep reading anyway, I'd like to send a box of sweets to you in appreciation for your open, and tolerant mind.__

Summary/Notes: The outersenshi spend the day outside at a picnic. Hotaru has been reborn as a baby (refer to SailormoonS) and has grown up a few years without remembering her duty as SailorSaturn. She is taken care of by the other outersenshi (refer to SailormoonStars). But, what happens when duty calls her again and she regains her memories? How do her surrogate family react? More importantly - is Hotaru still who she was?

Now…onto the show…er… fic!

An Outersenshi Picnic (or The Purple Bow) 

            Sunlight leaked through the canopy. Green leaves, dark and healthy, blew softly in the wind as sun and breezes mixed. The day was a bit hazy with white clouds congregating in the sky, a soft mist hanging near the edges of the forest. Sunlight shot down like sure, deadly metal tipped arrows in the clearing, hot and blazing. Yet muted softly somehow by the wind. The clearing was full of tender spring grass shoots, yielding to the touch, bendable yet unbreakable. It was upon this grass that a cherry-colored tablecloth was laid. Edges smoothed down. One edge was held down by a green-covered sketchbook, worn, yet clearly loved until the green seams were slightly frayed. Another, by a Walkman, black and silver, a bit dulled in shine. A tape was playing in its metallic body, and soft strains of a violin charmed it's kingdom of red-white cloth patches that lay around it. To the north, sitting on the edge of cherry-cloth that had been accidentally dyed orange by an energetic child's hand holding her juice, laid a magazine. Its surface still shone in plastic-enameled brilliance, a brilliance that could not match the blonde racing star's smile on the cover. It was a smile of a world champion. The title read "Racing Digest: Spring 2003." Two items honored the last corner of the cloth. One item was a deep red fan, wooden, and closed upon the cloth. The other was a teddy bear, but one that was velvety woolen, and decked carefully with a purple ribbon on the right ear.  

            It was only a few moments after the cloud had passed by the sun, that a shadow painted the cloth. It was a shadow of a young girl, perhaps no more than eight years old. The dark shadow that shaded the cherry red of the cloth was very thin. A thin shadow that belonged to a thin frame that carefully lowered itself onto the rich cloth, and breathed heavily. Yet the violet eyes shone merrily, as the pale face turned around, and shouted to a tall woman, against the glare of sunshine. The tall woman hollered back, her footsteps quickening into jog to full tilted run. And how the sunshine loved this fast frame. How it highlighted the blonde hair, how it bathed the woman in warmth and how graceful the shadows she cast. Her teal eyes flashed in mock anger at the girl in purple, her mouth in half-grin breathing in sweet wind. Another figure made it's way slowly over the horizon of forest green, a field of dandelions and yellow daisies. A smaller frame, but one that was elegant even as she jogged more sedately, even as the blonde had that same elegance in the full force of her run. Marine curls, waves, fell, cascading over shoulders. Blue eyes that smiled like Mona Lisa at the tall frame and the tiny one on the cherry-cloth. This delicate, yet strong frame let out a high laughter as the blonde woman stopped in her tracks. A new figure was standing underneath the tree. From the shadows, emerged a figure as tall as the blonde's. The sunlight gleamed in her eggplant colored hair, so dark green, it was akin to the black of the shadows she had hid within. The red eyes shone with wisdom, and a quiet grace that was older than any of them had. The full lips, tinged with red-lipstick kept its small smile. The girl in purple took one look at her Setsuna-mama, and doubled over with laughter. The blonde just a few feet away, shook her head of short, gold-colored hair. Somehow, Setsuna had gotten to Hotaru before her.  

            And then, all the figures gathered on the cherry cloth, each claiming an item at the edge of the red fabric. Setsuna carefully took her Chinese fan, opened it, and began to delight Hotaru with man-made winds. The blonde, reached for the magazine, but her wavy-haired partner pouted. So, the blonde took up the Walkman, and listened to a tape of music by the violin player, Kaioh Michiru. The wavy-haired woman took up the racing magazine, and with an artist's scrutiny looked upon the airbrushed figure on the cover to the truthful one. The true figure was lost in violin melodies, her eyelashes fluttering and hiding the green eyes. A hand ruffled the blonde-hair, and teal eyes belonging to the runner, the world-champion car racer, greeted the disturbance with surprise, and then softness. Low words were spoken. Michiru smiled at the racer. Haruka had told her the violinist's music was perfect; Michiru's music was perfect. But then again, Haruka claimed she knew a long time ago, Michiru was near perfect, and that together they could be no less than perfection. Michiru smiled. Setsuna smiled at the two's affectionate exchange. Hotaru blinked sleepily. The girl shook her head when Setsuna suggested a nap. Haruka smirked evilly and laid her own head on Michiru's lap, telling the girl that she didn't mind having a nap. Michiru blushed, while Setsuna flustered. Hotaru merely titled her head in contemplation. She finally agreed to a nap, draped all over her Haruka-papa's body, fingers secured around a woolen bear. Setsuna and Michiru shared a soft chuckle as they too, decided to repose.

            It was noon when Hotaru woke up to the scream.

Michiru, dressed in her familiar blue-green fuku of Sailor Neptune was clearly in pain. Deep scratches were lanced all over her arms, luckily, fingers still unharmed. Luckily, fingers that meant the world to a violinist player, unharmed. But Michiru was not screaming for herself, but for the blonde that lay in the grasps of a monster. The runner had not been fast enough to avoid the claws after pushing Neptune out of the way. Now Uranus's yellow chest bow was in tatters. Her throat was being clenched by a claw. Uranus's muted struggles to tell Neptune and Hotaru to run were becoming silenced. The low voice was fading, even as another figure struggled to rise to her feet. Pluto, with her red eyes, leaned heavily on her staff. With a nod from Neptune, she twirled the key-shaped staff, whispered three syllables. Upon the staff's top shone a red orb, igniting mists and forming a purple light that flew towards the monster. At the same time, Neptune's own sea attack, glowing green, was released. 

Uranus was dropped like a rag doll. She did not stir.        

Neptune and Pluto positioned themselves carefully, and protectively around the blonde soldier, ready to attack the monster again, who was slowly recovering, slowly regaining it's stance. Hotaru was forgotten on the rumpled cherry cloth. But the sight of her adopted parents, bruised and hurt, her papa who did not stir, was slowly unleashing not fear, but anger from her. 

Trembling, the small girl stood, an aura of purple light surrounding her body. Feeding her, until she grew into a stronger girl, one who looked more like thirteen. Still, the black, short hair, the glowing violet eyes, there was no mistaking who she was. She walked steadily toward the creature, her foot knocked something over on the cloth, but she no longer cared. In rage she shouted words she thought she had forgotten, words she would never need to use again. Words that would make her the messiah of silence, and the soldier of destruction once again. They were the transformation words of Sailor Saturn.

Enveloped in ribbons that stretched over her body, the ribbons morphed into a sailor uniform with skirt, and chest bow. Saturn now stood in that clearing. Saturn had risen again. Without a second thought the soldier screamed out, "Silento Wall!" shielding her fallen comrades from another blast by the monster. The glaive, shining in brilliant white had appeared instinctively in Saturn's hand. Without further words, she leaped outside her self-made wall, and cut the glaive into the monster. Fast. Furiously. But with the precision that Saturn carried while executing death. As the creature gasped its last, the form of Uranus moved.  

Neptune and Pluto helped Uranus to stand, and then the three looked at Saturn. Saturn could see their surprise, and their fear. Her gaze lowered to the ground. She stared at it hard, the hair draping over her face made a good enough hiding place for all the unsaid emotions to reside. That's when she felt a hand ruffle her head. Haruka stood before her, de-transformed, and although her expression was not glad to see the messiah of silence returned, there was still love buried in those teal eyes. Hotaru gave a brief smile as the others greeted her stiffly, unused to the formality that they felt they should show to the soldier of Saturn. Carefully, their transformations faltered and reversed. Saturn's did the same. 

The spell of the picnic was broken. Unsaid, the four decided to leave. Haruka took the magazine, Michiru her cassette, sketchbook, and Walkman, Setsuna her fan, and Hotaru, the teddy bear that lay on its side. She had knocked it over when she had risen from the cherry-colored cloth to become Saturn. It felt strange in her hands. Smaller, although still soft and warm. The bow had come off the ear. She picked it up.

            They were driving along the road in Haruka's yellow sports car. The cry of the engine masked the tense silence. Hotaru still clutched onto the bear. How wrong it felt in her arms. They were passing by a park now. Hotaru stiffened, and yelled for Haruka to stop the car. Getting out, and running, she made her way towards a little girl in the park. A girl who couldn't be more than eight. Telling the small girl to stop crying, she handed over the teddy bear. The little girl's eyes went wide at the unexpected gift, and Hotaru blushed, smiling. As Hotaru raced back toward the car, she could hear the girl's shout of thanks. So could the women in the car. Hotaru smiled as she neared the car. Haruka smiled back. Michiru laughed and told Hotaru that her hair was a mess. Setsuna told her to jump back in. Hotaru did so, vaulting over the closed door. 

In her untidily roped hair, there was the teddy bear's ribbon - bound tight in a childish bow.

The End

Yay! You finished! I know the long paragraphs in the beginning were intimidating, but thanks for reading to the end. Please review, I'd appreciate any comment or constructive criticism you have to give. 

Thanks lots. 

Oh…and check out any of my other fics by clicking on my author name, and viewing my profile page. That is of course, if you're still interested : )


End file.
